


SArda

by Scedasticity



Series: Crossover Sburb Sessions [7]
Category: Homestuck, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - SBURB Fusion, Gen, and beren, and some doriath notables, if i hit 10000 words i'll tag all the characters, most of the house of finwe, sorry - Freeform, when I say gen I mean canon pairings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-23 05:44:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9643124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scedasticity/pseuds/Scedasticity
Summary: This "game" isn't anything that was ever supposed to be there...





	1. SNoldor

**Author's Note:**

> And here I am, writing this after going on multiple diatribes on how impossible it is to write a satisfying Tolkienverse crossover or AU...
> 
> Anyway, I want to apologize for going with all the Sindarin names where known, even though this group as it stands has never even set foot on Beleriand, much less met any Sindar.

Imagine if you will the Music of the Ainur. Instead of proceeding as intended or being sabotaged by Melkor, which was also as intended, the music was disrupted when one of the singers was struck by the extrauniversal disembodied equivalent of a violent sneezing fit. It was highly disruptive, and Iluvatar ended up pinching off the _sneezy_ bit of universe and setting it adrift in the cosmos. It wouldn't have lasted much longer, ordinarily, but this universe fragment was, courtesy of the sneezing fit, currently carrying an… entity, which _would_ last. 

* * *

Under the light of the Trees it came to pass that Curumo, one of the disciples of Aulë, was overcome by a strange dream. He dreamed of a way that mere mortals might craft a new universe, given certain highly ritualized magic. He was so captivated by the dream that he began immediately to try to recreate the game, finding somewhat to his surprise that it seemed to have some effect — that it was not 'merely a dream'.

(Some said that what he really wanted from the game was a place to go, away from Arda before its inevitable destruction. Those who knew him better said he probably mostly just wanted to see if he could.) (Neither is completely true — those are the reasons he started, but then he just… felt like it was what he was meant to be doing? It was very unsettling, but he couldn't seem to stop.)

When he had completed twelve sets of boards and pieces, he gifted them to the King of the Noldor's grandchildren two days before the official opening of the festival in honor of King Finwe's birthday. There weren't enough for all of them, but he didn't think they'd all be interested in it anyway, even though he'd presented it as a puzzle rather than a weird multi-board game. 

He was right. Caranthir didn't want to be social and went off to do his own thing. Amrod and Amras were away visiting Nerdanel and wouldn't be back until the next day. Angrod was due to have dinner with his betrothed's family. Both Celegorm and Aredhel thought about refusing to play, but their not-so-inner competitiveness got the best of them. Argon for his part just didn't want to try to play a cooperative game with both Aredhel and four sons of Feanor.

The rest of them were persuaded by Fingon to give the game a try, in a seldom-used room of Finwe's grand house. Their aunts Findis and Lalwen spotted them setting up the game and trying to understand the instructions shortly before the mingling of the lights:

"All right, let's see…" Fingon paused a moment. "Each board is divided in half — a  "player" board for making progress on their own quests, and a "server" board. The server board is somehow magically linked to the player board of the person on your right, so anything you build or destroy on your server board happens to the player board on your right."

"Instructions taking this long to read are a terrible sign," Aredhel sniped, predictably enough.

This would probably end in most of the board games being thrown out the most convenient window, but honestly if that was the most disruptive thing that happened in the next few days they'd all be lucky.

It was indeed not the most disruptive thing.

That would be the realization, over the course of the next thirty-six hours, that ten young Noldor royals were missing. They'd never returned to their guest suites. All their baggage was where it had been. No one had seen them leaving. The last place anyone had seen them was that seldom-used chamber where they'd been about to play a game.

In the room, they found evidence of the game — an almost-empty pitcher of wine, discarded goblets, a light wrap Aredhel had worn before abandoning the garden party, the empty carrying-case of one of Maglor's harps, a draft of the speech Fingon was supposed to deliver at the second dinner of the celebration (which looked to have been edited and corrected by everyone else there), a scattering of hair ornaments on the table. And two still-sealed wooden cases labeled SARDA. 

They kept searching, of course, They scoured Tirion, and when that doesn't work, contacted the Vanyar and the Teleri, because pride was one thing but this was  _two-thirds of the king's grandchildren_ — including the best and the brightest among them — missing without a trace.

No one could find them.

Not even the Valar could find them.

Things got more vigilant in Aman than they had been in a long time.

Not that the vanished could see it; they might have watched the clouds of Skaia, ordinarily, but that was in a normal session, and this was not.

* * *

Notes 1:

Starting with Prospit dreamers:

Fingon is **Rogue of Space** , in the **Land of Fields and Frogs**. He may not be happy about this position, but it is _his_ position, and he does not need advice from anyone about it.

Finrod is **Knight of Hope** , **Land of Gossamer and Risk**. His entire land is shrouded in spiderwebs, and any sac you slice open might hold comatose consorts or angry head-sized near-invisible spiders. The only bright side is that when he encounters low-level agents, he can usually talk them around.

Aredhel is **Maid of Rage** , **Land of Ice and Hurricane**. She's determined to make the best of the situation, starting with not taking orders from anyone.

Maedhros is **Heir of Blood** , **Land of Scaffolds and Lava**. (He of course has no idea that this is an ironic gesture on the part of Skaia.)

Celegorm is **Thief of Breath** , **Land of White and Antlers**. His consorts are deer; they take his hunting renown very seriously, and glare at him a lot.

On to Derse:

Turgon is **Prince of Time** , **Land of Mountain and Splendor** , which is also getting a little ironic. He's better at freezing time than he is any other kind of manipulation of it, but he's still learning. He's sort of the _de facto_ group leader.

Galadriel is **Witch of Light** , **Land of Leaves and Pools**. Her feelings are _much_ more tempered than Aredhel's, but she _is_ still enjoying not having to answer to anyone about deportment

Maglor is **Bard of Doom** , **Land of Riptide and Regret** ; he is very mopey for a Bard. (In fact, most of his most Bard-like traits are probably going to stay hidden, since he didn't really start getting weird and unreliable until things were going bad in Beleriand.)

Curufin is **Mage of Mind** , **Land of Caves and Serpents**. He's very pleased with… whatever he thinks this says about him. He is the champion alchemizer (though not in a way people from other sessions are likely to recognize — no punch cards, no captchalogue codes, a lot more glass tubes and small cauldrons.

Aegnor is **Page of Heart** , **Land of Symbols and Cymbals** , _lucky_ him. 

 


	2. SIndar

Melian had a vision of destruction — not by the forces of the Enemy, nor by other elves, or dwarves or men, as had come to her before, from time to time. This was a vision of destruction by pure _entropy_ — a universe split off from its intended course because of choices made, which now had no purpose and was slowly, inevitably disintegrating despite the Valar's attempts to stop it. 

But in her vision, there was a way to stop it. 

An uncertain way. A painful way. 

She didn't say anything about it at first. But then the vision came again, more explicit this time — great chunks of the Iron Mountains crumbling away into a sea of dense, ominous fog. Thangorodrim still stood, but the fog was eating away its slopes. Orcs sought to flee, but the fog swallowed them without a scream. A balrog was more of a challenge, it could hold off the fog for a while, but in the end it succumbed, melting until even its fiery power was swallowed by nothingness.. Some forces of the Enemy were probably holed up inside, but only Eagles made it away. It was a disturbing vision. She hoped it was metaphorical. 

The Eagles who showed up two days later put paid to that theory. 

She told her husband and her daughter — about the visions, and about what entropy means, that she could protect Doriath, but not forever, and the possible way to save them. 

Elu was skeptical — about the game part, not the disintegrating mountains vision — but Luthien was out recruiting other players inside the hour. Of late she, too, felt that something is terribly _off_. 

* * *

**Notes:**

Luthien is **Witch of Hope** , Derse dreamer, **Land of Dance and Teardrops**. The game evaluated her as being too strong for the default Hope Denizen, so she has Barbelo (counterpart of Yaldabaoth). She understands the reality behind the game probably better than any other player, and strongly dislikes it, but is going to play to win — because if they create a viable universe, they might be able to transfer their home into it, away from their disintegrating home universe. 

Daeron is **Bard of Breath** , Prospit dreamer, **Land of Ash and Rain** (which by the way is a TERRIBLE place to keep an instrument, _especially_ a stringed instrument). He keeps trying to impress Luthien with game achievements; she keeps not noticing (or at least convincingly pretending not to notice). He's terrific at puzzles, though. 

Celeborn, **Seer of Space** , Prospit dreamer, **Land of Trunks and Frogs**. His land is filled with the largest trees he has ever seen (as a Doriath native, mind). There are narrow platforms around the trunks and precarious-looking rope bridges dangling between them, and frogs croaking somewhere inside the threes. 

Oropher, **Rogue of Time** , Derse dreamer, **Land of Wastes and Castles**. It's really marshy. (In fact it bears a curious similarity to the not-yet-existing Dead Marshes). He doesn't feel like he belongs with the other three (semi-divine princess, highly-placed noble, and genius, and then there's Oropher the very minor noble with impulse control issues), and is overcompensating.

They all went in knowing a lot more than the Noldor group did when _they_ started (not very hard at this point), so things start off going fairly smoothly.

Then of course things get complicated when a strange creature in beige-and-green Knight's costume falls clean out of the sky and lands unconscious one one of LODAT's pools.

 


	3. SNoldor II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~~SNoldor 2: Electric Boogaloo~~

Some things didn't change. Feanor and Fingolfin still hated each other. Melkor still sowed seeds of dissatisfaction and conflict. Ungoliant still came, and the Trees still died.

But as much as Feanor and Fingolfin hated each other, they wanted their children back more, and they each _knew_ what the other's priority was. (There was some very quiet speculation that Feanor's concern was mostly for Curufin, but nowhere any royals could hear.) There was more passive-aggressive needling, and hardly any violence. Feanor's departure from Tirion was voluntary, to see if he could get a bit more _quiet_ to _work_.

What he was working on was mainly reverse-engineering the SARDA cases, to find out _how_ and _why_ and _where_. He couldn't spend all his effort on that, so he took breaks for minor projects, but nothing else so grand and important.

There were never any Silmarils to take from Formenos, nor was Finwe there to stand in the way when Melkor instead seized several of the completed SARDA replicas. He killed a few retainers on the way out — no one terribly important, no one Feanor considered worth a blood oath.

Besides, if Melkor planned to _use_ those boxes, chasing him to Middle-earth wouldn't help at all. So they didn't need boats, and there was no First Kinslaying — they needed SARDA recreated. So if Melkor were going to go there, they could get there _first._

And the Doom of Mandos was roughly, "If you use those, we will not be able to help you until after the end."

* * *

 

There was never any question of whether Feanor would go. It was his reconstruction that was letting them go anywhere, after all, and he had four children missing. And when he really gets going on something, it's really hard to disagree with him. Feanor is **Thief of Mind**. He is a Derse dreamer, and his planet is the **Land of Acid and Mercury**.

Fingolfin was never going to stay while Feanor went. He is the **Knight of Rage** , Derse dreamer, of the **Land of Gates and Morning**.

Finarfin is rather taken aback by being labeled **Prince of Blood** ; no one can quite work out what that's supposed to mean. He's a Prospit dreamer, and his planet is the **Land of Lamps and Afterthoughts**.

Amrod is the **Page of Time** , of the **Land of Fire and Strings** , and he is a _Prospit dreamer_. None of them know how strange that is, to start with — why the locals get so weird about it. Amrod himself is mostly just upset he's not on the same moon as Amras. Amras is **Mage of Space** , of the **Land of Coast and Cays** , and he's a Derse dreamer. Curiouser and curiouser.

With both Amras and Amrod going and the Valar only saying 'be careful' rather than 'don't do it', Nerdanel insists on participating as well. She is **Rogue of Void** , Derse dreamer, **Land of Geometry and Glass**. 

Since Nerdanel is going, the other two mothers decide they have a right to go, too. Anaire is **Maid of Hope** , Derse dreamer, **Land of Cottages and Alabaster**. Earwen is **Seer of Breath** , Prospit dreamer, **Land of Salt and Silkworms**.

Feanor's initial roster included Caranthir and Angrod. Angrod wanted to go, but — he has a wife and a baby son, and so he's staying with Finwe instead, as is Argon. Caranthir declined on the grounds he'd be terrible at the cooperative aspect and one of Feanor's partisans should stick by Finwe anyway. This left two empty spaces in the ten-person roster (because it was ten people before, and don't change variables if you can avoid it). After a frank exchange of views on several of the candidates put forward, Feanor eventually agreed to allow a couple of Vanyar ladies who are skilled with magic and have personal stakes, though not at this juncture official ones. Amarie is **Witch of Heart** , Prospit dreamer, **Land of Rain and Eucalyptus** ; Elenwe is **Sylph of Life** , Prospit dreamer, **Land of Rocks and Skates**.

It doesn't take very long to realize they've been sent, not after the first ten, but somewhere _completely different_.

 


	4. SEdain

**== > KNIGHT OF LIFE: FLY**

You are Beren son of Barahir, and for the past eternity you have been flying blindly through the Furthest Ring, pursued by an evil demigod which you fervently hope is going to be eaten by  the tentacle-things that didn't deign to notice you. You're alone except for your sprite token — which you can't bear to try to use because what if it doesn't work — and a Genesis Tadpole in a jar.

You don't know where you're going or what you're going to do when you get there. You just know you have to keep the Genesis Tadpole away from the evil demigod, or he'll use it to create a terrible universe under his own sway.

You could destroy it, you suppose, but the thought of destroying the hard work of your friends, your family, _burns_. 

You just have to keep going, and pray that's enough.

When you see blue light and white clouds coming up, you think at first you've gotten turned around somehow — but there are only four planets circling Skaia, and they're all intact, not smashed into each other like the Medium you left.

You guess you really can get to another "session" through the Furthest Ring.

Maybe… maybe you could rest on one of the planets. Just for a little bit.

**== > KNIGHT OF LIFE: FALL OUT OF THE SKY**

You lose control of your descent maybe two-thirds of the way down. You crash-land in a shallow, salty pool. Crawl out, check the Genesis Tadpole, and pass out for a while. Maybe a week, that sounds good.

When you wake up, it's dark.

**== > KNIGHT OF LIFE: SEE SOMEONE DANCING**

* * *

There is a time gap of over four centuries between Beren and the other sessions, but time and space are fluid, in the Furthest Ring; he wouldn't be the first to come out earlier than he went in.

The evil demigod pursuing Beren and wanting the Genesis Tadpole is Sauron; this is the eventual end result of Melkor running off with the SArda box. He assigned Sauron to see what it did. Sauron succeeded in replicating the box, and tried to direct a session of orcs — nothing happened. A mix of elf and human slaves — the magic activated some, but no one disappeared. He finally decided to try to trick non-slaves into playing. He disguised himself as a human and joined a group of human rebels, and eventually persuaded them to attempt the game with him. Beren and his father were skeptical, but outvoted.

Things were actually going pretty well until the Genesis Tadpole was created, and Sauron revealed his true intentions (as he does).

What followed was a general bloodbath taking out more or less everyone and everything in the session except Sauron, Beren, and the Genesis Tadpole. Beren ran; he's hoping something in the Furthest Ring will eat Sauron.

Beren is **Knight of Life** , Derse dreamer, and he used to have the **Land of Vale and Fog** before it was destroyed.

Sauron is **Lord of Rage** , no dreamself, **Land of Gold and Pyrite**. He is really not supposed to be playing this game.

All other players were killed, mostly due to Sauron.


	5. Be the Knight of Hope

**== > KNIGHT OF HOPE: DREAM**

One instant you were sitting around a table, following instructions to snap the little toothpick-sized "cruxite needle" at the same time as everyone else. The next you're standing around a very different table, in a room of nothing but gold. Also, your siblings have vanished, and so has your most sensible cousin. And everyone is wearing very strange yellow clothing.

"What the _fuck_ , Fingon!" Aredhel demands. 

"I… have no idea?"

"How can you have no idea? It was your game! Now where the hell are we?"

"It's not mine in any sense other than me being given it!"

"Look," Maedhros cuts in. "We all had a chance to examine the boards, and no one saw anything weird about them, right? And if Curufin missed it, none of the rest of us had a chance."

You're not completely sure you agree, since last you heard Curufin was not an expert on booby-trapped magic board games and might therefore be as ignorant as the rest of you. But it's true that to all appearances there was no reason to be alarmed. Just enough resonance so one board could control the neighboring board, nothing that should have affected players.

Obviously you all missed something. Had there been some strange power hidden in the mysterious "cruxite"? None of it around to check, now, anyway. 

"Pointing fingers won't help now," Maedhros continues firmly. "We have to figure out where we are and—"

"I can tell you why you are here," someone says in a kind voice. Everyone turns to look at the uniformly chalk-white… person standing in a doorway. 

You swear that doorway wasn't there a minute ago. 

The person introduces herself as the White Queen, and says she wouldn't ordinarily be giving the orientation, but that the way things are, you have no useful sprites. 

It doesn't get any less surreal after that.

**== > KNIGHT OF HOPE: WAKE**

The White Queen explained what the opening phases of "the game" would be like given your group's special "computerless" circumstances. (Although a _computer_ sounds very interesting — you'll have to think about that some more, later.) So, you aren't entirely surprised to wake to find yourself in a windowless, doorless room. Or rather, there's one curtain-covered opening which proves to lead to a bathroom. There's a bed, a little too short for you, with a purely decorative canopy covering maybe a third of its width. Everything is pale yellow or cream-colored, with a recurring motif that looks sort of like a pair of wings. 

There's also a table with a single chair. There are two boards on the table — one of them a modified version of your "server board" from before, the other a new, smaller board holding ten tokens, each marked with unfamiliar glyphs — no, wait, one of them is the same as the wings motif you see here and there around your prison. 

The server board has a small, generic, rectangular house in the middle of it now, and a small mirror which shows Fingon trying to kick a hole in the wall of a chamber much like yours — the color scheme and motifs are different, but the layout and lack of doors is the same. You can't see what's in the mirror on his server board, but you hope it's Turgon. 

While you're still trying to find an angle to see in the mirror, one of the tokens starts vibrating and buzzing. You pick it up — its symbol is a sort of four-pointed wiggly star. 

_—Finrod, can you hear me now? Finrod?_

"Galadriel?"

_Oh, good. These tokens are some kind of—_

"Communication device, if you're each holding the right one," you finish. "The wings symbol is mine, and yours is this… wiggly star symbol?"

_It's all over this… chamber. I can't find any weaknesses in the walls, can you?_

"I haven't tried, but Fingon is and he hasn't. The White Queen told us the house will be impenetrable until it's been built up to the 'first gate'."

_Who?_

"Strange chalk-white featureless person with a crown? Gold city? You didn't see anything like that?"

_…No._


	6. Be the Bard of Doom

**== > BARD OF DOOM: CONSIDER DOOM**

Two things have become clear over the last day or so. First, players, especially but not exclusively Prospit dreamers, are supposed to be able to see potentially useful bits of past, present, and future in the clouds of Skaia. Second, no one has seen anything even remotely useful, none of it is identifiable as past or present, and if it's the future then it's a very unpleasant future. 

…Which is to say, almost everyone has seen themselves dying at least once. Among other things. 

You're one of the exceptions, but to be honest you'd prefer seeing yourself die than seeing yourself roaming Alqualonde murdering unarmed Teleri. Because that's impossible, right? You would never do that, right? You're a good person, aren't you? The level-headed one?

The Alqualonde visions are the worst, in some ways, because they're unarmed and caught unsuspecting. At least in the visions of killing people in an underground city, or a smaller town on the coast, the victims are _armed_ , and seriously fighting back. Of course those visions generally conclude with you weeping over your brothers' bodies. 

—That's another disturbing aspect. The visions fit together. Your vision and Curufin's have him dead after rampaging through caves. Maedhros also sees Celegorm killing a king, and sees himself searching a forest for the children abandoned there. You all see your father dying. 

You've seen yourself in charge overruling proposed attempts to rescue Maedhros. You're not sure what from. Maedhros won't talk about it, but it rattles him more than the murder visions. You think Fingon eventually saves him, in the vision. 

You have no idea what vision-Celegorm and vision-Curufin did to vision-Finrod, but whatever it is has Galadriel spitting mad and Aegnor conflicted. Aredhel isn't holding whatever she's seen against anyone as far as you can tell, but she's -- very distressed. 

Compared to all that, seeing yourself wandering the seacoast singing about what a terrible person you are is sort of a relief. Although it does give new significance to your Land. 

The visions are just sowing mistrust and fear, is the point. Even the most innocuous ones are distracting. So that's another thing that's clear. 

**== > BARD OF DOOM: CONSIDER USES OF THE WORD "DOOM"**

And finally, the word _doom_ comes up an awful lot, in the visions. So some people (most pointedly Celegorm, Curufin, and Aredhel) have started suggesting maybe you, as Bard of Doom, could do something about them. 

Personally you're a little skeptical, but it's worth trying. You're halfway to developing a fear of clouds, and you're not getting any of the really bad ones. 

The little 'consort' creatures are eager to be of help, but… aren't. So you make the trip to your Denizen's palace, harp on your back. 

You don't leave a note. Possibly you should have. Maedhros has been doing his best mother hen imitation lately; he's going to fret. 

The palace is vast and gloomy and seemingly deserted, up until you enter the chamber at the center. Hekate is there, seated on a throne. Two of her three heads are asleep, but the third is watching you with eyes glowing red. 

**BARD OF DOOM**

You manage not to flinch, but it's a near thing. She feels like a Maia, maybe even a Vala. "Denizen Hekate," you say. "I hope you might help me with a question."

**A QUESTION**

"Yes, as the foremost expert on Doom available." You pause; she doesn't attack or tell you to get lost, so you continue. "The images in the clouds of Skaia -- what are they?"

**THIS I WILL ANSWER: YOUR RIGHTFUL DOOM**

What in the world did that mean? "…Rightful?"

**WHAT IS MEANT TO HAPPEN IN YOUR WORLD**

**THAT IS THE ALPHA TIMELINE**

**YOU CAME FROM A SECONDARY TIMELINE**

**IT WILL INEVITABLY CEASE TO EXIST AND FADE INTO THE VOID**

**AS WILL ALL ITS INHABITANTS**

**UNLESS**

Silence, except for the slowly subsiding ringing in your ears. "Unless what?" you ask when it becomes clear Hekate isn't going to continue.

**THAT ANSWER MUST BE EARNED**

_Dammit_.


	7. SIndar session: Go haywire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmmm, not sure how happy I am with this, but have it anyway.
> 
> It ends on a cliffhanger, but you can probably guess what comes next.

 

**== > WITCH OF HOPE: JUST GO AHEAD AND WALK RIGHT INTO THE MONSTER'S LAIR IN _THIS_ TIMELINE, _TOO_**

You haven't been avoiding your Denizen's temple-fortress out of fear, or even caution, particularly. Caution is _merited_ , certainly — Barbelo is on another level from the other Denizens. She is meant to be a challenge to you, personally. The issue is, what _kind_ of challenge? Everything you've been told has been framed in terms of slaying the monstrous Denizen to obtain their massive grist hoard. That's what the other three did, not without intense effort, and the game duly rewarded them.

It just… doesn't feel right. It doesn't feel like what you should be doing. It feels like something is missing. But Celeborn is almost finished creating the Genesis Tadpole (next to everything else that doesn't even sound ridiculous any more), and you need to get the grist to be ready to fight the final battle against the Black King, and then feed the Battlefield for your… your new universe to grow.

You're confident in your ability to triumph, but not so confident that this is what you _should_ do.

When you walk into the center of Barbelo's temple and see her reclining motionlessly on a massive couch, you hesitate, and — don't attack.

"Before we begin," you call clearly, "allow me to offer you a dance."

Barbelo blinks, once, slowly, and then nods.

You put your doubts and your fears and your hopes into the dance — your love and fear of the fascinating _bizarreness_ of the Medium and Incipisphere, your sorrow for carapacians and consorts created to be nothing but set dressing and spearfodder, your faith in your mother's hopes that this will save Doriath, somehow, how much you miss your home and _not_ being in charge, even the frustration with Daeron's inability to take a hint.

You know your dancing is unique, but you don't know quite what reaction you should expect.

Barbelo is smiling, slightly, when you stop.

 **Child** , she says. **I offer you a Choice.**

You don't flinch back from her gaze. "What is the choice?"

**Defeat me now. Take my hoard. Defeat the Black King and let your Seer's tadpole become a quiet, tidy universe where you can take your people to live a peaceful life. This is everything that is expected of you.**

"And what's the other choice?"

**Wait. Wait for the shadow of the Doom you would have met in the true path of your world, and what follows. You will risk everything, but if you succeed, you may save more than Doriath alone, and the bitterest choice you would make need never be made.**

You walk back out of the temple with no additional grist. 

A few days later, something falls out of the sky, and you catch a stranger watching you dance.

* * *

**== > BARD OF BREATH: SULK**

You are _not sulking_. You are _sensibly skeptical_.

**== > BARD OF BREATH: TATTLE**

Yes, who are you supposed to tattle to, exactly? Lord Celeborn is back to being preoccupied with frogs, since he thinks the mortal's Genesis Tadpole is somehow superior to his perfectly good Genesis Tadpole. Oropher is just pleased that now there's someone definitely less noble and senior than he is.

**== > BARD OF BREATH: BE JEALOUS**

You're not jealous! You're just— The princess is assigning so much importance to this — self-identified _mortal_. You _could_ have won the game _days_ ago! It's not _fair_!

**== > BARD OF BREATH: HATE**

Why does she like _him_? She barely knows him! You've done so much, inside the game and outside it, and— You _hate_ him! You could almost _hate_ her! No, not quite, but…

**== > BARD OF BREATH: RAGE**

This is an overreaction and you know it but you can't seem to stop…

Something's… something's wrong… something's really wrong, and you can't seem to even say anything about it…

**== > WITCH OF HOPE: RAGE**

Huh? About what? Daeron's being a bit obnoxious with the jealousy, but that's no reason to fly off the handle.

**== > ROGUE OF TIME: RAGE**

_What_ is this new _thing_ daring to crash _your session_?! The mortal, fine, he's weird and ugly but the princess says he's good so you'll trust her on that, but now there is a _thing_ flying in from the Furthest Ring and it _must be destroyed_.

You freeze Celeborn in time so he can't stop you, and send your dreamself to _fight the thing_!

**== > SEER OF SPACE: RAGE**

You're feeling a little wrathful towards _Oropher_ at the moment, but you think that's justified. How does he even think you'd stop him sending his dreamself? 

**== > KNIGHT OF LIFE: RAGE**

Oh gods, you know this feeling.

"I was wrong," you tell Tinuviel. "He followed me. I'm so sorry."

That's when Daeron backstabs both of you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (If you are concerned, death by sudden backstab isn't Heroic, he revives in plenty of time to get Luthien to her quest bed, and Oropher's dreamself is lost with no immediate damage to his non-dream-self. And if all else fails, they can un-Rage Daeron by killing/resurrecting him.)


	8. space

**== > SEER OF SPACE: WHAT THE FUCK**

Ahem. You are far too well-bred to use such language. In mixed company. And when not on military duty. Except that this is military duty, in a way — you're all trying to save the kingdom, and fighting to do it — so…

**== > SEER OF SPACE: WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK**

You unfreeze in time to find yourself being towed between Luthien and the apparently-a-mortal, who are… both flying. The mortal has Daeron slung over his back like a sack of potatoes, and the princess is carrying Oropher similarly. You're flying through… empty space, it seems. "Where—"

"Finally!" Luthien says. "Can you hang on to Beren's cape or my hood? Don't worry about the weight, it's just to stay together!"

"I — yes." First things first. You grab the mortal's cape, and they let go of your arms. By the look of it their hands must have been cramping. "What _happened_?"

"You know Oropher froze you in time, right?" Luthien starts.

"Yes, because of some insane plan to send his dreamself to fight an imaginary intruder—"

"It isn't imaginary," the mortal says grimly. "But it was an insane plan. His dreamself is dead now." After a moment he adds, "Not his fault. _He_ can make anyone irrational."

"At least Oropher didn't try to kill anyone," Luthien says, equally grimly. "Poor Daeron snapped, I guess, and attacked us. I had to send him to sleep. We're hoping it will have worn off by the time he wakes up."

"Wait, who's 'he'?" you ask.

"The Lord of Rage," the mortal says bleakly. "He was in our session — he tricked us all, and then — killed everyone."

"He's one of Melkor's Maiar," Luthien adds. "I think I… I _might_ be able to do something to stop him, but not with my attention divided."

Lord of Rage, probably capable of inducing rage, or— "I apologize, I'm still trying to fit all the pieces together. You think he can control anyone who is experiencing rage?"

"More like drive susceptible people into an irrational rage," the mortal says. 

You… can see Oropher being particularly susceptible to that. Daeron not quite as much, but he _was_ getting a little cranky over the princess's failure to return his interest. You were ignoring it in the hopes that he'd come to his senses and realize there was no point to it, but evidently not. "I see. Where are we now?"

"The Furthest Ring," Luthien says. "I'm going to give the horrorterrors another chance to eat him. After that… we could try circling back to our Medium, see if he's left enough behind to grow either Genesis Tadpole — I picked up ours since you were frozen, and Beren has his — or we could try to find another session."

"I don't know, I feel bad enough leading him to yours," the mortal says.

"Don't. I think I can beat him, given the right… place to stand."

"If he's one of the Enemy's Maiar…"

"I know, I know." She shifts Oropher to her other shoulder. "Look, for now, we need you to see if you can navigate at all — you're Seer of Space, you should be equipped to we think? Right now we have no idea where were going besides _away_."

**== > SEER OF SPACE: OH, FUCK**

…You haven't spent all your time frog-breeding, but the time you did take off from it you generally weren't worrying about your _role_ at all. "I'll… try."

**== > ROGUE OF SPACE: CONSIDER YOU MAY NEED SOME HELP WITH THE FROGS AFTER ALL**

…Possibly. The frog-catching is proceeding with occasional assistance from your brother and several of your cousins. The frog-breeding is going much better now that you know you can stick them in the proper tanks and offspring will magically appear. (The less said about your attempts before you knew that, the better.) The problem is that you are supposed to be able to get frogs from anywhere, anywhen using the "appearifier", and the appearifier, like the clouds, seems to be stuck on the "true timeline". Apparently true-timeline members of your party aren't around many frogs. (You've gotten a few from some thing where Finrod was almost getting killed in a swamp, but not many.)

So you may need some help with the _equipment_ , which is why Curufin is poking around the setup. Finrod is here because Knights are "supposed to" help with the whole frog thing, and he asked Galadriel to come to LOFAF to have someone to talk to about _his_ equipment theories. Maedhros is here as moral support for you, and also making sure Curufin doesn't do anything too egregious. Maglor seems to have showed up just to take more notes on the "true timeline", and you're not sure what Turgon's doing. Some sort of Time thing, maybe?

…When did Turgon even _get_ here? Definitely a Time thing. Time seems like a much more useful aspect than Space. Not that you're going to complain in front of Maedhros or Maglor. Maedhros was never happy about Blood and has gotten less and less so while watching the clouds; Maglor seems to be holding up all right with Doom, but you wouldn't want to be the one everyone quizzed about the true, doom-filled timeline.

Though it might be less awkward for you, given that the alternate sons of Feanor seem to have beaten everyone else in both number and magnitude terrible decisions.

(You can't bring yourself to think that it's the _true_ versions of your cousins _killing_ people. Not Maedhros. Not Maglor, and not the younger ones you've known since they were _babies_ … And _yes_ , Turgon, that includes Celegorm and Curufin.) (You can't see even your half-uncle killing strangers he didn't have a personal grudge against.)

**== > MAGE OF SPACE: UNCOVER A PROBLEM**

Oh, you have.

**== > MAGE OF SPACE: TELL EVERYONE ABOUT THE PROBLEM**

That's what you're _trying_ to do, but getting a word in edgewise on the seeing stone conference is easier said than done. In the past you and your brother have gotten some enjoyment out of betting on who will be first to leave in a huff. (Still almost always your father or Fingolfin, but the others' tempers are running short, too — the Vanyar ladies have been getting a little passive-aggressive.) It was funny, but now that you have something to _say_ , it's enormously annoying.

Finally you just interrupt Fingolfin (safer than speaking over your father) and shout, "My denizen is missing and that probably means we can't win!"


End file.
